Leadership Fears

There are certain things adults don’t warn you about as you’re growing up. Things like how hard it is to save and buy your first home, holding down a steady career, being confident in who you are and taxes. Another thing you don’t hear much about is how scary it is to be a leader.

As a kid, it seemed like there were certain, natural leaders who rose to the top. Those were the kids that everyone was naturally drawn to, the kids who had a little group following them around the playground, whether it was because they were good looking, popular, athletic, smart, etc. Naturally being a leader always looked easy.

But as you grow up, and one has to learn to lead, things get scary. Like when you’re put in a management role for the first time, or if you’re charged to lead a family, you begin to think through things differently.

What if no one follows me?
What if I lead down the wrong path?
What if I fail?
What if I hurt someone?
What if I say the wrong thing?

Leadership is scary, and it carries a weight of responsibility, no matter what the role is. And there’s always a risk for failing.

But since when have the good things in life been easy?

-Cliff

Cliff’s Note: Be a leader in the good, and keep leading when things go bad.

Jet Planes & Goodbyes

There’s a song written and performed by John Denver called ‘Leaving on a Jet Plan.’ It’s a sad song, played on the guitar, about him leaving his loved one behind to go on a trip somewhere far away. In the song, there’s no end date to the trip, and you can feel the regret in his voice for having to leave.

If you know anything about John Denver, then you also know that he died in a plane crash, which makes the song all-the-more sad in hindsight. But even without his death, the song would still carry its sad weight, and it would still be the song that comes to mind anytime I have to say goodbye to my own loved ones.

Today, my wife left on a trip. She’ll be gone the next week. And my parents also left on a trip in which they’ll be gone the next four.

I’m not saying that I’m not expecting any of them to come back. I am fully anticipating a huge hug and kiss from my wife on Monday and a call from my parents on Sunday, but still, saying goodbye is never easy.

There’s missing those you love, being left alone, feeling left out and wondering what to do on your own time. There’s also mystery and longing.

Being left along and saying goodbye are unique feelings in their own right, and they seem to get even more deep the older I get when I reflect on them, with the help of John Denver of course.

We’re never guaranteed tomorrow, nor our loved ones. So if you love them, let them know, always.

-Cliff

Cliff’s Note: It’s not sad to say goodbye; it’s another chance to say how you feel.

Showing Up

Do you ever have those mornings when your head feels like it’s in a complete fog, and when you look out the window, the world mirrors your mind and traps you in dense clouds where you can’t see more than a few feet in front of you? That’s today.

I tried opening the finder window to begin writing this morning, and clicked the wrong one four times.
I forgot to turn my headlights on (dangerous in the fog).
I used face wash as shampoo.
And I made hot tea this morning without putting in the teabag. So, I basically made hot water for 10 minutes.

These type of mornings aren’t the greatest. They don’t set one up for a successful work day, and everything feels difficult, but guess what?

We eventually get our finder windows open to the right one.
We find our headlight switch.
Face wash is still soap.
As long as the hot water is at least warm, you can still use it for tea.

You showed up, and that’s what counts. Even when days don’t start like we want them to or don’t finish as well as they start, showing up and trying is a win in itself.

So, if you’re having a day like me, enjoy the fog and smile in the fact that you showed up.

-Cliff

Cliff’s Note: A win is a win, even if it’s small.

Making Friends

Making friends has always been hard for me. The process feels like entering an ice-cold swimming pool on hot summer day. I know the water is going to feel great after I get in, but the action of actually getting into the pool takes a little while.

I always study the water at first, debating whether or not I want to dive headfirst into the deep end or take it slow, easing into knee-deep depths, and finally, after the water gets past my belly button, being able to fully submerge.

There are a lot of people who take the alternate route, as well, diving headfirst into the water without any thought at all. And sometimes, I wish that were me. It certainly looks cooler than entering a pool the same way most children under the age of five enter one.

I often wish the headfirst approach was more my style when it comes to forming friendships, too - Avoiding the awkward song and dance of debating whether or not to approach someone and introduce myself, but instead walking straight up to a stranger or group of strangers, thrusting out a sweaty right hand in confidence for a handshake and introductions. Nonetheless, I’m a slow-wader, and not only do slow-waders need time to meet people and form friendships, we need even more time to find roommates and even more time to be-friend those roommates, rather than just treating them like roommates.

-Cliff

Cliff’s Note: Dive or don’t.

Life Chapters

Recently, i’ve been reading stories about King David from the Old Testament in the Bible - his Mighty Men, his victories and failures and his ruling kingdom. He was quite the guy, a ‘man after God’s own heart.’

And in reading all about him, I wonder if he knew that one day, 2,000+ years later, people would still be reading of him and all he’d done, the good and the bad. That has to be one of the downfalls of being a king, in my opinion - everyone reading all the details of your life, most of which lack context.

There’s also the story of David and Bathsheba, probably David’s lowest moment that’s recorded. But the funny thing is, it’s only recorded in one of the oracles of his life, not the other. In fact, it gets nearly a full chapter dedicated to it in one book, while the other book doesn’t mention it at all.

It got me to thinking about my own life and what people would read about it in old journals and hear told about it from old friends and family. Would the bad things come up, or just the good? How long before the bad is forgotten and the good remains or before the good is forgotten and all the bad, damaging things we’ve left behind are all that remain?

Much like yourself, i hope the good things remain, that I’m remembered for good. For loving, for teaching, for sacrificing, for wisdom, patience and goodness.

I guess we’ll have to wait and see.

-Cliff

Cliff’s Note: Each day is a chapter written. I’ll try my best to write the good, unforgettable ones.

Family Leadership

This morning, I was listening to a podcast that I tune into weekly. I must be nearly 200 episodes into it, if not more, so one might say I enjoy it at the least. It’s called the BEMA Podcast, and it is typically hosted by two guys - Marty Solomon and Brent Billings; however, this morning’s episode was missing Brent and featured Marty’s wife, Becky, for the first time.

This episode of the podcast turned out to be a discussion between husband and wife. It was a healthy talk that ranged from Marty and Becky’s differences to their family’s core values, and it was during their chat that I began to feel convicted - not by anything in particular they were questioning of their listenership’s marriages, but just by the way they talked about leading their family. It made me feel behind, even as Sarah and I are newly-weds, like I was being a poor leader in my own family. So I began to write down some questions.

What does leadership look like in marriage?
What are our core values?
How can I pray more?
What will I have to sacrifice?
How can I do the hard things?
How can I always be honest?
Will I lose sleep?
How can I make sure Sarah feels cared for, loved and known?
What can we build together to begin working toward family goals?

These were things I hadn’t thought of before and questions I hadn’t addressed. But now questions that I want to. Even though we’re a young family, and I’m a young husband, I don’t want to leave those things as excuses to neglect family leadership.

So this Friday, heading into the weekend, this is my reader question: When do you feel most like a leader and how can you pull that into an area of life when you feel less like one?

-Cliff

Cliff’s Note: Sacrifice is a requirement of leadership, and that is not easy.

The Comparison Found in Competition

Yesterday I wrote about comparison.

Today, I’m going to do the same thing. Because this month is ‘Muscle May’ at the gym my wife, Sarah, and I go to.

We go to a bootcamp style gym called ‘Intentional Fitness,’ and we absolutely love it. Not only have the workouts and culture made a big impact on our mental and physical health over the past few months, but the community there has also been extremely refreshing. We’ve made friends we never would have made before and have learned things we wouldn’t have had the opportunity to learn.

But, as I said, this month is ‘Muscle May,’ a challenge to see who can gain the most muscle mass over the next 4 weeks, which of course brings up the question: How do you do handle this without comparison?

How is it possible to have a fitness competition, while at the same time not trying to compare yourself to your peers? Essentially, to not compare almost removes the competition aspect of the challenge. Even when comparing your former self to your current self or visa versa.

I’m trying to figure this out, and I don’t have an answer to this question, but if you do, I would love to hear it in the comments below.

I struggle with comparison greatly, and I don’t want to get caught in its traps over the next four weeks. After all, “Comparison is the thief of joy.”

-Cliff

Cliff’s Note: How do you remove the comparison from competition?

Tape Measures & Rope

I’m looking outside the back window of our house this morning as I write. There’s a big, beautiful tree that shades most of this side of the backyard, and when it has all its leaves, the tree creates a sense of serenity. Except one part of the tree.

One part of the tree has a long, yellow rope hanging from it, falling down from way up high in the tree’s massive branches, too high to reach. There’s something about this rope that is off putting. Sure, it stands out against the rest of the tree and hangs there with no purpose other than to dangle in the wind. But it also feels like it symbolizes negativity. It resembles a noose, which I don’t love, but it also looks like a long measuring tape, showing me just how long it is and just how far from the ground it is. And it always reminds me of measuring myself. Just how far off I am from the things I want to achieve.

That’s a lot to take away from a long-forgotten rope hanging in the backyard, but it goes to show, we (humans) will take self-measurements from anywhere. From the people around us, from social media, from television and books, and apparently, even from the inanimate objects placed around us that the voices in our heads use to tell us lies.

What are you measuring, and what’s measuring you?
I hope they are true.

-Cliff

Cliff’s Note: Measuring yourself compared to others is no way true way to measure.

Youth Games

Growing up, I went to youth group at my local church. We’d meet on Wednesday and Sunday nights, and each meeting would always kick off with a game led by our youth pastor. Sometimes the game would involve everyone, like dividing up into teams and seeing who could duck tape the lightest person on the team to the wall fastest. And some games would involve individuals, like blindfolding a volunteer and having them identify all the Chick-fil-a sauces by taste only.

I always wondered what the point of those games was, and I do even more so now as I’m tasked with coming up with games on my own. Were the games simple ice breakers to get students used to the environment they were in and talking with one another? Were they to help get their energy out? Or was there always something deeper than that? Could there be something deeper than that?

I don’t want to waste time, much less a kid’s time. I know when I was that age, I didn’t want my time wasted. So how can we make the most out of games, out of simple interactions?

I think it’s through intentionality. Learning someone’s name. Looking someone in the eye. Encouraging someone. Laughing with someone. Empowering them to succeed. All things we need. All things kids need.

So today, how can we do that?

-Cliff

Cliff’s Note: Encourage in the Simplicity.

Skills

I haven’t picked up a camera in a hot minute, which you have probably noticed if you’re a regular reader here. It’s been stock photos to the max.

And I don’t love that. I don’t love using other people’s work on top of my own. Maybe that’s a pride thing, maybe it’s a consistency thing. Either way, it’s been a long time since I’ve picked up my camera, and my craft shows it.

At my previous job, I had a camera in my hand nearly every day of the week. Photography was a skill I honed and got extremely good at with the consistency I was operating at. But now, I wonder what it will be like next time I pick up a camera.

How foreign will that body feel?
What will I see outside of the viewfinder?
Will I still be able to make my subject feel comfortable and confident?
Will I feel confident?

There’s something to be said for consistency in our skills. Sure, our interests fade and sharpen, but once we have those skills and have worked hard to obtain them, it’s a shame to lose them.

Maybe it’s piano or guitar? (Two more skills I have lost)
Maybe it’s cooking?
Maybe it’s writing?
Maybe it’s running or exercising?

We all have skills, and we are all at the mercy of time and how often we can use them, hone them and become masters. So I ask you, what’s your skill or that one that has faded away?

-Cliff

Cliff’s Note: Find an excuse to do what you love.

Trusting in Cliches

This weekend, my wife, her parents and I spent the weekend painting the interior of our home, and I learned a lot doing so. But possibly the biggest lesson I learned was that I don’t like painting. I mean, the painting is fine, and even kind of mentally relaxing, but the set up and preparation to paint, that’s another story.

There’s this lame saying that everyone knows by heart, “Good things take time.” It was one of those sayings that your parents used to tell you to be patient for things, and it was a saying I kept hearing in my own head as I put yet another line of painters tape down across a wall fixture or baseboard. It was just as mentally taxing as it was physically, and the entire time, I was trying to come up with a better saying to focus on rather than, “Good things take time.”

We were listening to music while we were coloring the walls, and I heard the lyrics to Elton John’s, ‘Rocket Man’ telling me, “It’s going to be a long, long time.” I thought those were fitting words, too, but still not quite what I was looking for to describe what I was feeling; however it was right after that track that another quote came to mind, one that fit the summation of my painting experience.

“Trust the Process”

Another cliche, sure. But a more fitting one, yes. I was in a process. The process of cleaning everything only to make it dirty. The process of moving everything into a cluttered heap to ensure it didn’t get paint on it. The process of moving that heap to a new location to paint where it once stood. The process of taping, newspapering, laying out papers, mixing paint and adding layer after layer of new color to every square inch of a room. The true definition of a process.

But sometimes that’s all life is, a series of processes. One’s we go through day-today, both comfortable and uncomfortable. Some old, and some new (typically the uncomfortable ones), but it’s what makes up life. And that’s a process I don’t ever want to get bored with.

-Cliff

Cliff’s Note: Cliches are okay, sometimes.

Different

I’m a 29-year-old white, Christian male. I live in the middle of the United States.

I’m not a minority.

I don’t have a right to tie that word to my name.

I’ll never know what it’s like to be a:
African American
Asian
Jew
Latino
Poor
Samoan
Woman
Insert any other minority group here.

My life will never be challenged in those ways, and yours might not either. Myself, and those like me, rarely, if ever, will have the opportunity to feel ‘different.’

But how can we try? How can we begin to put ourselves in situations where we are different? Where we are outsiders. Where we are forced to think differently and empathize with how the majority of others feel when they are around us.

That is a kind of person I long to be.

-Cliff

Cliff’s Note: Be exposed to different.

Acknowledgment

Gyms are full of mirrors. Mirrors to get ready in front of in the bathrooms, and all over the walls in front of weight stations and cardio machines. I used to think they were there so you could watch yourself flex and check yourself out as you picked up your weights, drenched in sweat. But now, I feel like the mirrors are there to help you watch your form. You don’t want to drop your body or the weights too low, and the mirrors are there to help keep you accountable to the angles, movements and ways one moves their body.

I look at the wall, the small brick or concrete sections of the gym that lack mirrors. Why?

I used to think it was because I didn’t want to feel prideful in myself or catch myself flexing in the mirror. But now, I feel like I don’t look at the mirror because I’m scared to acknowledge myself. I’m scared to see the reflection that would be looking back at me - its age, its change, its face. I don’t want to acknowledge myself or be acknowledged, out of fear, not humbleness.

Today is National Admin Professionals Day - a day when we’re supposed to acknowledge and celebrate those secretaries, schedulers and those around us who probably work the hardest carry a lot of stress. I hope today is a day when they are acknowledged. When teammates are able to look them in the face, without fear of vulnerability and say ‘Thank you.’ Thank you to some of the most unacknowledged people in the workforce who work the hardest.

-Cliff

Cliff’s Note: Acknowledge those around you, and yourself.

The Value of Expertise

If you’ve ever owned a house, you know that owning one is essentially like paying to have a series of projects that never end, half of which you probably don’t know how to do. That’s how I feel anyway.

Sarah, my wife, and I bought our first home this past December after years of renting ourselves, and so far, it’s felt a bit like being put into high school calculus without having any algebra in middle school. There’s problems and projects in front of us that we have no idea how to do because we’ve never seen anything like them before.

So, what do you do? You hire the professionals. And professionals get paid like professionals.

It pays to be an expert. An expert plumber, an expert electrician and expert handyman. You have a skill very few others have, and you can put a price tag on that value. I’m always a little shell shocked when I hear a quote back from these folks and think, “Wow! You make that much. I’m in the wrong field.”

But in reality, we’re all experts in something that others aren’t. Some just pay more than others. But being an expert is something to take pride in, no matter what it may be.

Maybe you’re an expert gamer? Or an expert at Microsoft Excel? Or an expert friend, knowing everything about your loved ones and caring for them deeply in ways no one else can?

It can’t be valued by money, but you’re valuable. Your expertise is needed. You’re needed. It’s about finding that Truth in yourself and leaning into it. When you do, the world around you is a little bit better - fixed. Just like my electricity will be today.

-Cliff

Cliff’s Note: Own your expertise.

Celebrating Selflessly

This morning, I had a friend invite me to his bachelor party. I’m not a groomsman, and I have only known this guy a few months, but he still felt like he wanted me to be a part of the day celebrating his next season of life. When he invited me, I responded horribly, and now I feel terrible about it.

I could blame it on being caught off guard, or I could blame it on being 6a when he invited me, but I’m going to choose not to. Instead, I’m going to blame it on this fact: that more times than not, I value my plans, my happiness and my joy over celebrating other people.

*gulp

That’s a hard truth swallow and think about. It’s gutting to reflect on having someone ask you to be a part of a once-in-their-lifetime celebration and to not respond with love, joy, thankfulness, excitement and brotherhood, but instead to respond with, “I think I have some plans that day, but let me see what I can do.”

If I had been him and gotten that reaction, I think I would have been pretty hurt, and I’m pretty sure that’s how he felt too.

It wasn’t a proud moment, but it’s certainly a moment to learn from, enough so to process, write about it and share it with you, reader(s): Loved ones deserve to be celebrated at all times, even when those times aren’t always what’s most convenient for oneself.

-Cliff

Cliff’s Note: Celebrate must be selfless.

Slow Trucks

Have you ever wanted to be a semi-truck driver?

Count me way out on answering yes to that question. Although, my dad might be someone who’s up for it. Lynn likes driving and taking things slow.

But that’s exactly why I wouldn’t be able to stand it - I cannot for the life of me take things slow.

Think about how frustrating it is to sit behind a truck anywhere on the road:
If you’re at a stoplight, you can’t see over it.
If you’re driving around town, they make wide turns.
If you’re driving through construction, they might run you into a guardrail.
And we all know what happens when you want to pass a truck but you’re stuck behind another truck trying to pass the same truck you are - it’s slow! And frankly, I would compare that specific instance to watching grass grow.

The point is, most of us don’t like going slow, and most of us don’t want to be truckers; however, there’s still a few, like Lynn, who do.

I suppose if you’re a trucker, you have some things going for you:
You get to see the countryside.
*Nice people get out of the way for you.
You get to listen to the radio all day.
You have one job - get from point A to point B safely and on time.
All not bad things. All slow things.

And sometimes I wish I were more okay with slow. With trusting the process and waiting in traffic. With looking at the grass on the side of the road. With slowing down enough to help carry big loads for those around me. With being like a trucker.

-Cliff

Cliff’s Note: Next time, give your friendly truck a slow wave (but not with your middle finger).

A Lyric of Advice

There’s a line from a song that i love stuck in my head, which is much better than having a line from a song you hate (or an entire song you hate) stuck in your head.

The lyric is, “Speak up now. Have you said it before? Why don't you say it again, a bit louder?”

And I’ve been trying to figure out why I love that line so much, why it feels so relatable. And I think I’ve put my finger on it - I’m quiet.

For the most part, especially in big groups of people I don’t know exceptionally well, my voice doesn’t carry. I don’t know if it’s my natural tone, mumbling or a lack of confidence, but often times I say things, and they won’t be heard. It could be a joke that I’m not sure anyone will get, it could be an idea or even just a question. But no matter what it may be, it typically comes out quietly and can go unheard except for a couple of people who are close by. And it’s always those people that I wish would ask me:

“Speak up now. Have you said it before?
Why don't you say it again, a bit louder?”

-Cliff

Cliff’s Note: Speak up.

Failure. Escape. Acceptance. Relationships.

Today’s question I ask to myself: Does every beginning need a beginning?

In the past, every time I’ve sat down to write, I felt like I had to explain why I had stopped writing previously and why I’m starting to write again.

Maybe it was because I felt the need to explain myself to the few people who read my words. Maybe it was because there had been so many large gaps between each writing session that I feel like a new person compared to the person who last wrote. Or maybe maybe it was a way of forgiving myself. 

Either way, here I sit, having started down the writing journey again with a new goal, not to write a book but to become a writer. Not apologizing to myself or apologizing to you, the reader, for not writing, but making a promise that I will become a writer, that I am slowly but surely becoming who I want to be, that I’m pushing past fears.

Past unspoken fears have led to unspoken thoughts, and those fears have driven my do’s and don’ts, my words and my silence. It’s a reason why my writing process takes so long, why it’s taken me years to fulfill promises I’ve made to myself. FEAR. 

Failure. Escape. Acceptance. Relationships.

All things that scare me. All things that motivate me.

-Cliff

Cliff’s Note: A prayer: While my words are not solutions, may they be a nightlight, a friend and a reassuring, ‘It’s going to be okay.'‘

The Healing Process

What does it take for you to heal?

Personally, the more I go through life, it feels like healing only happens through more pain.

I’m not specifically talking about physical healing here, although these thoughts could apply there as well, but I’m talking about emotional pain. Spiritual pain. The kind of pain that you can’t see on the surface, but that wrecks havoc internally, under the surface of your veins, organs and insides. The pain that you hide, that you mask, that you bury, that eventually turns into a numbness but rears its wounded head every chance it gets, often in new and improved ways.

That’s the kind of pain I’m talking about healing from. The pain that seems hardest to heal from. What is that process for you, and is it important?

Lately, I’ve been writing a lot, and for me, writing is processing. Processing is where I’ve begun to think more about this healing process because processing has been causing me a lot of pain. It’s been turning up a lot of memories, thoughts and experiences I haven’t addressed in years, and with that, it’s revealing pain that I haven’t seen rear its head in quite some time. I buried those memories. Pretended they never happened and grew a thick skin over them to number the pain, hoping to never think about them or feel them again.

Not healthy, and I wouldn’t recommend.

So, here I sit. Addressing old pain in a new way. Almost talking about it with myself. And I’m honestly not even sure if that’s healthy, but It’s better than what my process was before.

That’s why I ask you, what does it take for you to heal?

-Cliff

Cliff’s Note: We all have unaddressed pain. Search for healing.

Exertion's Growth

Exercise.

This, writing, is an exercise.
It stretches my mind, my thoughts, my spirit.
And it takes them to places I don’t know exist inside of me.

Physical, team training is an exercise.
It strengthens my body, my motivation, my commitment.
And it pushes me to grow in ways I could not do alone.

Spirituality is an exercise.
It tests my faith, my hope, my love.
And it anchors me when I fail at those tests.

Exercise.

It’s rarely comfortable, but it’s always consistent in the goodness it gives back.

-Cliff

Cliff’s Note: Keep going. Breath. Stretch. Grow.